K, I’m cheater and I’ve decided that even though this is about yesterday… it’s still “my day in great detail” so welcome to both an update AND day 25 of the 30 day blog journal.
So, I had a big day yesterday. I had an appointment with DW, then I got to come home and deal with plumbers, then I got to talk to a restoration company, then I made dinner (got shot down for sex anyway) and then I had to stick a bunch of pills up my cooter. Guess which part was the most fun?!?!?!
The hell? you ask.
Well, let’s start at the beginning. I woke up and took a shower, because you know, when doctors are going to be in your bits, the bits should be clean. While I was in the shower, G went to the basement. Probably to rub it in my face that he’s allowed up and down stairs and I’m not. But, he found a surprise down there… Standing water! Coming back up though the drain hole in the floor, and the old potty that doesn’t work in the corner. Gross!!! Because as we know water coming from those two places isn’t JUST water, it’s dunh, dunh, dunh… sewage. Eww! OK, I didn’t know that, but G kindly explained it to me.
So, he comes back upstairs and tells me not to freak and get my pressure all jacked up, but I need to not ask to be induced, because I need to come home and call plumbers and shit. To which I say, “fuck that, yo’ mama can let in the plumber, shiiit.” ‘Cause I am ghetto fab at 8am. So he’s all, “O-Kay, but I don’t think you fully grasp the situation down there.” But, we had no more time to argue. He had to go to work and I had to go the doctors office.
And, I did. But first, I needed an NST. Apparently, mah baybee knows how to hide his heart in my fat very effectively, because the poor nurse had to hold the doppler the whole time. Unfortunately, she rendered the contraction monitor useless, but I didn’t bitch about it, because he was being very assy and moving on her a lot. It took an hour to get 20 minutes of him on the monitor. It took 10 minutes to get 10 kicks. I tried explaining that 9:30am was playtime, and we’d be better off to do the AFI first, but I am only dumb patient, so I was overruled. After the NST I went over the u/s room for an AFI and his fluid was up to 10 from 8.5. So hunky dorrey there. Also of note, my BP was 113/89.
I was devastated. There was no way with yummy squirmy baby, and improved fluids and damn near normal BP readings that DW was going to induce me now. Motha Flipaship!
But… I headed up the musty old elevators anyway. I called G and told him the news and he was thrilled because “major plumbing emergency” blah, blah, blah… Then I peed in a cup, because that’s what I do at DW’s office. Then a nurse told me I looked like shit. Well, she actually might have said “Oh honey, you look tired” but I heard “Gee whiz, bitch, what’d you do? Sleep in a dumpster?” Then she dipped my pee and took my BP.Which was… 149/103. The fuck? She asked how I was feeling and I told her I was losing my mind in the bed and I was losing my identity and the days were running together, turns out she just wanted to know about headaches and blurred vision. So, I gave her the short story: yes and no.
Then DW came in, looked at my chart and said “let’s have a baby, get nekkid” and I was “oooh, finally somebody wants to do me” but he just wanted to check mt cervix. At this point I feel I should note: I was going to have a baby yesterday if only that bitch cervix would play ball. Obviously the fact that I’m writing that instead of, “look, shiny new baby” means that my cervix is a sell out whore. I don’t know how much G paid her to double cross me, but I’m going to make her pay…
Anyhoo, DW checked the cervix and while I was “a tad” dilated, she was long and firm. Which is kick ass awesome from weeks like 4-34. But she should now be ripening on her own. I think this assumption is based on ladies that are getting a steady supply of prostaglandins, this lady is not. So DW starts thinking out loud (still wrist deep in my snatch, BTW) about our options. I swear he was tickling the baby’s head, whatever he was doing, it hurt. He was saying things like “we need to find a good reason to deliver, but the cervix just isn’t favorable, but the BP is all over the map, but we don’t want to end up doing a c-section.” He then pulled his hand out of my cooch and recommended that I come back on Friday and do another NST and he’d check my cervix again. He also told me to try some techniques to help ripen my cervix, specifically Evening Primrose oil taken orally and poon-erly. As I can’t exactly put the cervix in a paper bag on the counter, like a pear (yes, I envision my cervix as a rock hard pear), I had to come home and google additional ways to ripen it.
I did stop and get the EPO and some new lip balm. Unfortunately, lip balm had lanolin in it and yeah, now my lips itch and the skin is peeling off! Fucking lanolin!
Then I came home and had to call the plumber. The plumber got there in like 40 minutes! Hooray. And he was nice! And he fixed my slow running tub, and, you know, the problem causing the sewage in the basement for only like $300. The plumber kicked ass. Apparently, we had tree roots in the main drain. I don’t know how that’s possible, but, ’tis what he said. He cleaned up his mess and called a lady who specializes in this kind of clean up for me. Again, hooray plumber!
Then I had to call G with an update. He was not so pleased with having a cleanup specialist come by. So, he came up with a Plan B and Plan C and stressed my shit out calling me every few minutes to talk about it. Grrr… Yeah, I did not want to deal with it anymore for another hour until the lady came. Turns out the situation down there was not as bad as I was envisioning and but the restoration chick wants $1,700 up front, and requires a bunch of work after the fact to replace the carpet. So, now, G is going to do the cleanup himself. But, the restoration lady stayed a long time and put on a strong sales pitch.
Then I made dinner when she left. It was OK. G really liked it. So, I mentioned that I did some research on cervix ripening and I need to bathe the cervix in prostaglandins and he happened to have a very good source of prostaglandins and oxytocin. He decided to go shopping instead. Ouch! Shot down.
So, I got out the breast pump for a Plan B. Because you know breast pump, sex, same diff, right?
Then my Mom called to talk about my sisters shower. So I told her how I’d have the cake, diaper cake and my presents etc… delivered Thursday night or Friday morning. Apparently she also is unaware that PIH/Pre-eclampsia are not just for fat people. I had to remind her that what I have used to be called toxemia and she had it with me and she was not this fat, so this is not a direct result of my being too fat to have a baby.
Then G came back from shopping and I proposed getting fresh again… but unfortunately he was not game. Apparently my pregnant ass grosses him out and he’s not interested in actual sex with me. Whatever… I have more to say, but won’t because I’m just ragging because my feelings are hurt.
Deciding that I still needed to get some prostaglandins on my cervix I stuck three Evening Primrose Oil pills up my pillbox and went to bed.